


Thinker

by misato



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 09:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17322017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: In which Cyrus learns to stop thinking.





	Thinker

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this bc my little sister loves tyrus and it be like this ok..cyrus deserves all the good things in the world

Cyrus has always been a thinker. He worries, he frets, he broods, he practically tortures himself with what-ifs, and most of all, he plans ahead. So when TJ invites him over for New Year's Eve, Cyrus’s anxiety brain immediately decides it’s going to be one of  _ those  _ parties. His stomach turns at the thought of loud, pulsing music and red Solo cups and beer pong. He doesn’t actually know what beer pong is, but it’s a Cool Kid thing, right? Right?

Wrong.

It’s not one of those parties.

In fact, it’s not a party at all.

Once Cyrus works up the nerve to ring the doorbell (a routine complete with breathing exercises, fixing his hair in the reflection of the window, and self-affirming statements), he’s surprised to find TJ answering the door alone. There’s a bright grin spread across TJ’s face, one that makes Cyrus’s heart pound out of his ribcage. His smile quickly falls when he sees Cyrus’s confused face.

“What’s up?” TJ asks mock-casually, as if Cyrus isn’t nervously peeking past his shoulder at the empty house.

“I kind of thought this was a big...thing,” Cyrus confesses, and TJ laughs.

“What, a party? Nah, that kinda thing’s not really my style. My family went out for the night, so it’s just us. Is that okay?”

He sounds a little anxious, and it makes Cyrus’s chest ache.

“No!” he says, maybe too loud, and then softer, he continues, “No. I like this better, actually.”

“I have Mario Kart,” TJ says, and Cyrus realizes he’s still standing on the front porch. 

“Cool,” he says, in a voice that definitely isn’t cool, but TJ doesn’t comment on it.

They head inside and Cyrus follows TJ to a room covered wall-to-wall with sports photos and posters of bands he’s never heard of. TJ flops onto the bed and Cyrus resists the urge to do the same. Instead, he stands, rigid, and waits for an invitation.

“You gonna stand there all day?” TJ asks, and Cyrus shakes his head and sits gingerly at the very edge of the bed.

“Should I take my shoes off?” he asks, and TJ shrugs. 

“If you want.”

Cyrus toes off his sneakers and TJ yawns, stretching out on the bed. His T-shirt rides up, revealing an inch of his stomach -- lean and tanned like the rest of him, and Cyrus looks away so quickly he might snap his neck.

“Dunno how I’ll stay awake all night,” TJ says, sitting up and inching closer and Cyrus flushes and pretends to be very interested in the carpet. “When I was a kid, it all seemed so exciting, but now I’m just...tired.”

He huffs out a laugh and slides off the bed so that he can flip on the TV. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he rummages through a bin of video games until he finds Mario Kart. 

“Here, catch,” he says, and tosses Cyrus a game controller.

Cyrus, to his own surprise, catches it.

“Nice reflexes,” TJ says with a grin.

“Thanks,” Cyrus says, fidgeting with the controller until TJ gets the game set up.

He’s met with a brightly colored character selection screen. TJ picks Toad and Cyrus picks Luigi. It’s because he’s underappreciated, he informs TJ just as the first race begins, earning him a full-body laugh and a shoulder bump that makes Cyrus forget to start his Kart for a full fifteen seconds.

He sucks, but TJ does too, so they just have fun with it for an hour or so. Cyrus glances over at the other boy as the last race ends, watching the smile that spreads across his face. It’s a look of real joy. It captivates him. The light from the screen envelops his body in a pale blue glow and Cyrus finds himself unable to look away.

“Dude, you won!” TJ cheers, and turns to find Cyrus, dazed and adorable, staring right into TJ’s eyes. “Cyrus?”

“Oh, shoot,” Cyrus mutters, and looks away. “I mean, yeah. Yeah! I won. That’s great.”

“Is something wrong?” TJ asks, his brows furrowing, and Cyrus shakes his head.

“No,” TJ fixes him with a stare, and Cyrus breaks. “Maybe. Well, yes. I can’t really talk about it. I’m sorry.”

“Look, if this is about all the drama with--”

“It’s not!” Cyrus insists immediately. “It’s me. It’s me who did something.”

The Mario Kart music is getting a little obnoxious, so TJ turns off the television, then looks back at him again.

“You can trust me,” he says. “I trust you, y’know.”

Cyrus lets out a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” he says.

Cyrus has always been a thinker, but he doesn’t think about the words he says next.

“I want to kiss your mouth.”

He’s been planning this for months. He’s deliberated over phrasing (“I like you, TJ.” or, alternatively: “TJ, I like you.”), locations (the swingset, obviously), gifts (a muffin from the cafeteria). It should have romantic. It should have been perfect.

He shuts his eyes, trying not to cry, waiting for TJ to laugh in his face and tell him to go home.

Instead, a mouth meets his.

Their first kiss is gentle, soft, and tentative. TJ’s lips are warm, and there’s a hand tangling in his hair, and this is  _ nothing  _ like the WikiHows Cyrus stayed up all night reading. It’s so, so, so much better.

TJ pulls away.

“I was gonna wait ‘til midnight, but you beat me to it.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” TJ smiles. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

He leans in, and Cyrus stops thinking.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed!! :)


End file.
